


The Static Speaks My Name

by lookoutforburningbuildings



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Animal Death, Heavily implied kidnapping, Suicide, based on a game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 08:02:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14890673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookoutforburningbuildings/pseuds/lookoutforburningbuildings
Summary: (Based off a game by the same name)





	The Static Speaks My Name

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all  
> This isn't a vent, so don't feel worried about me! I'm doing Okay.  
> This is just me trying to process a game I watched someone play.  
> It had such an interesting plot line for such a short game that I just had to write something.  
> This contains suicide and talk of hanging, so be careful!  
> Love y'all!

Today will be a better day.

He told himself the same thing every morning.

That today would be better, it would be nice, and he wouldn't be so alone today.

He lied to himself the same way every morning.

He sighed and got out of bed, looking around the room.

First thing to do. Go to the bathroom.

He did as he thought and when he was done took a long look in the mirror.

His blind eye stared him down, even if he couldn't see out of it.

It took a long time for him to look away.

For a while, he couldn't.

When he managed, he finally walked back into his room, glancing at the cage with the rotting corpse of his pet snake.

He'd forgotten to feed her one too many times.

Too many days of saying he'd do it tomorrow.

He didn't have the heart to throw her out.

Breakfast. He needed some food.

He walked into the kitchen, ignoring his boarded up windows.

No food in the fridge.

Nothing to eat.

Did he even deserve to eat anymore?

He shook his head and turned to his computer, reading the note he had written so many times by the keyboard.

"Dear Mom."

He could mail it to her.

But he didn't want to hurt her more than he did by existing the way he did.

He booted up his computer and say a new message.

"royallyroman: hey Dolos, you doing okay?"

Come on, Dolos.

Do it, tell him.

Tell. Him.

TELL HIM YOU'RE ABOUT TO DO SOMETHING HORRIBLE.

TELL HIM YOU'RE GONNA BE HANGING FROM A NOOSE IN LESS THAN AN HOUR.

BE HONEST FOR ONCE IN YOUR GOD DAMN LIFE.

"dolosbullard: I don't know."

Good job.

You fucked it up.

One more thing to be upset about.

He got up from the chair and walked over to the room.

The room.

Paintings lined the walls.

Scratch that.

One painting lined the walls.

He couldn't make sense of it.

It was a simple painting, just two palm trees.

But it meant something more, he knew that.

He just couldn't figure out what.

He growled and walked up to a large version of the painting.

He hated it.

He loved it, but it ruined his life.

He raised his fist and plummeted it into the framed glass, breaking it with a loud shattering noise.

He felt pain.

But he didn't care.

He saw blood.

But he didn't care.

He had broken glass embedded in his knuckles.

But he didn't care.

He walked away and into the hallways, reaching the door at the end.

He slowly opened the door, and noticed the naked man crying in the corner.

The man--Thomas--looked up, tears in his eyes.

"Please, let me go."

Dolos paused for a moment, thinking.

"I would if the doors weren't boarded." He whispered.

"Please, I don't have anything left to tell you, just let me go."

He tossed the keys to the cage in front of the man.

"There's a hammer in the kitchen. You won't have to deal with me soon enough."

He walked out of the room, not shutting the door.

He walked into his room and opened the closet door.

One last thing to do.

Lay your body to rest.

Tomorrow will be a better day.


End file.
